My first side-story for Blood of the Vongola! Or my first side story period. There are also OCs here, but they're minor.

This will be a collection of one-shots that are part of the BotV-verse, but don't fit into the main story. You don't have to read BotV, but some things might make a little more sense if you do. They may not be in chronological order either.

wolfeclipse25-This is entirely your fault. I wasn't going to make this because I had no ideas or plans on what to do, but my subconscious apparently did and right before I went to bed a couple weeks later this popped into my head. So this G-centric chapter is for you.

I don't own KHR. Liberties are taken with canon, but this is a fanfic. Isn't this kinda the point?

Chapter 1: Love and Lose

He didn't remember much about his father. He just knew that one day, that man was there. The next, he wasn't. He wasn't there the next day either. Or the day after that. Or the day after that. There were many days after that first day and the young boy slowly forgot what he looked like. What he sounded like. What he felt like. All that remained was the memory of broad sturdy shoulders that once effortlessly carried him atop them and dark coarse hair high above the ground.

Then it was just him and Maman. She couldn't carry him like Papa did, but she was just as warm and made better food and gave better hugs. She also told lots of stories, some sad, some happy, some in between.

That was how he found out that Maman had lots of brothers and sisters. Some got sick and died before he was born though. He knew what being sick was. It was a bad feeling that made him feel miserable and weak and hot and cold all at the same time.

He didn't really understand what dying meant though. Just that you went somewhere and didn't come back. He supposed that was what happened to Papa. Papa had stepped out the front door of their tiny one bedroom house like he did every morning. He didn't come back like he always did every night.

That was alright. Maman was still here. She always took him with her when she went out so he supposed that if she were to die, then he would die with her. That was alright too. Because they went out together, they could go away together and not come back together.

Maman was very forgetful. At first it was just the little things like where the new tomatoes that she had bought for tonight's dinner went. They had already been made into yesterday's lunch.

Then she would look at the table cloth and wondered where this pink striped one came from when the one they had was white with blue flowers on the trim. The white one had been cut up and made into handkerchiefs, after an accidental fire ruined most of it two months ago.

Sometimes she couldn't find her necklace -she was already wearing it- or her favorite skirt. It was hanging on the clothes line outside to dry.

That was alright too. He could just remember things for her. He was good at that. It would be years later before he realized that something was wrong.

Then one day, Maman forgot his name. She called him 'Genevra.' The name of her favorite little sister in her stories. "Maman! My name's not Genevra! That's a girl's name!" Maman just blinked as if confused for a few moments. "Oh. I'm sorry dear."

Maman began to forget to do things. It was up to him to remind her to wash the clothes and change the bedding. She would carry them to the tub to be soaked and scrubbed and come back thinking that she had already done it. He began to wash them, because it seemed like Maman just couldn't remember that she hadn't done it. It was hard tiring work and the wet cloth was heavy. He wondered how she had done this by herself for so long.

He didn't always have to remind her though. Sometimes she would handle everything like normal. But when the clothes had dried on the line and were brought in to be folded, she would dump them back into the tub to be washed again.

She would cook and cook and cook. But she wouldn't remember to eat. He would remind her and make sure that she put her own cooking into her mouth.

Sometimes she put on her shirt backwards. Other times she wouldn't put on a shirt at all. He occasionally had to help dress her as well.

Then Maman began to forget who he was too.

"Little sister. Why are you calling me Maman? I know she doesn't pay as much attention to you anymore, but you're old enough to work now and she's still got so many little ones to take care of."

"Maman. I'm not-…" What was his name? He knew it started with a G too, but it had been so long since he had been called that. Maman only called him Genevra now. Had been for a while.

"Here." He handed her a meat pastry instead. "Signore Angiolo brought some over. He said his wife made some extras."

"I'm not hungry right now. I just ate." He knew she had some stew and bread in the morning and a salad for lunch. It was now night.

"Please? Just try it." He pleaded.

Maman smiled warmly at him and took the pastry. He waited and watched her carefully to make sure she ate every bite.

Money was something Genevra, or G as he had taken to calling himself, had to learn about. Everything needed it and it was apparently important. Food, clothes, wood for the fire, even the very house they lived in needed it.

They got by on the scant generosity of some neighbors who would give him looks of pity, but they were not exactly well off either and had their own families to feed. So G learned to barter and work for the necessities of life at the age of five.

G was unusually intelligent for his age and made himself useful in a variety of ways. Despite his size, he had good eyes, a sharp mind, and the ability to put them both to use. Most importantly, he could read. Something only those around him in their double digits could do proficiently and at six and a half years of age, G was nearing their level of literacy.

At seven, Maman got sick and they had nowhere near the amount of money that would be needed to buy medicine nor could anyone else afford to lend them enough. So G learned to steal and plead from those who were well off but wouldn't spare a single coin for a poor urchin on the streets.

Maman was tired. More so than usual. She barely had the strength to feed herself anymore much less sit up without aid. Her hands trembled and her skin was cold and clammy. Her voice was soft, so quiet that it was more a breathy whisper than the usual gentle lilt of warmth.

"Maman? Maman. Please wake up." G patted her shoulder gently. "It's time to eat."

"Gen…nevra?" Her eyes fluttered open. "No. You're not her. Sorry dear. I mistook you for my little sister."

Her eyes were clearer than they had been in a long time.

"Ma…man?" G swallowed. The lump in his throat refused to go down as he hoped against hope.

"Yes son?"

"Ar-are you ready to eat?" He took a breath, trying to stop the tears that threatened to spill from the corners of his eyes.

"I'm sorry. I really don't…feel hungry at all. I'm just so tired…" The words grew softer and softer as she trailed off.

"Just a little Maman. Signora Bonfilia brought some stew over and I learned how to make panna cotta today from Signor Claudio. He let me take home some."

In the end, she finished half of the bowl and three bites of the dessert before whispering that she could no longer stomach the rest.

"Good night Maman."

"Thank you for everything. It was delicious. Good night G…" Her voice trailed off as she slipped into a dreamless sleep and the boy couldn't hear the rest of his name. G finished the rest feeling better than he had in a long time. He wrapped the small dry rolls that she hadn't eaten away for tomorrow.

The next morning, Maman was dead and G's howls of grief brought some of the neighbors over to investigate. In three days, she was buried in the local cemetery; a small wooden cross gifted by the local carpenter for her marker. G was sent to the next town to live in the orphanage as no one who was willing to take in the boy could afford to.

G never found out his real name.

The orphanage was in a bigger city than his hometown. They provided the children with more food than G had been able to earn back at home, but he was in no mood to eat. Being an outsider, he had to earn his respect from his new roommates. With fists and biting words and cunning plans. They learned to back off, but he didn't make any friends either. At ten, he met Giotto, a blond sunny-haired boy who became his first friend after they had ended up running away together from a local law enforcer for accidently knocking him into a river.

Giotto lived in an abandoned single floor inn at the edge of town that was once owned by an old deaf woman. When she had died, no one cared enough to try fixing up the place and so Giotto used it as his home. He had no parents either, so he had been sent to live with his aunt and uncle. They didn't pay much attention to him as they had many, many other kids to care for. So Giotto left to earn his own living and stayed with the old woman whose inn he now lived at.

G stayed at the orphanage for two more years, sneaking extra food out to share with his friend until he finally decided to leave altogether and move in with Giotto. They spent their time earning money through odd jobs and G's intelligence and variety of skills coupled with Giotto's amazing intuition made them a famous duo to the locals. Eventually, Giotto's cousin, Ricardo, ran away from home to join up with the blond who had inspired him as a child.

Giotto gave G a purpose at ten. At fourteen, he gave him a dream.

But the Vongola was better than any dream could ever be.

Things were a mess and the dream was now a nightmare. Elena's death. Daemon's betrayal. Everything had fallen apart. Once things had settled, Giotto wanted to retire and leave Vongola to Ricardo. Leave Italy entirely and start a new life in Japan. Leave G and all they had worked for to live a life of peace…he couldn't blame him, but…but…

In the end, G and Giotto hugged each other tightly.

"Good bye, my brother." Giotto whispered into his ear. "Don't worry. We'll all see each other again someday. I promise."

Then he let go and boarded the ship with Ugetsu.

G stepped back and stood at the wharf where Ricardo and what remained of Primo's Guardians were waiting in silence. They all stayed, even Alaude, until the ship was no longer in sight. Then, one by one, they drifted away, heading home or wherever they had to be until G was the only one left. Or so he thought.

"Farewell…Primo…"

G whipped his head around searching for the owner of that voice. The man who he wanted to kill more than anyone else. In the end, he released his grip from his pistol and left with a muttered curse when he could find no one.

"G! G! Sir!" The door to the meeting room slammed open and Ricardo and the others instinctively readied their weapons, only to lower them at the site of harassed messenger.

"Par-par-pardon for the in-intrusion Se-seco…" he wheezed.

"Out with it man!" snapped Ricardo. He was in no mood to deal with interruptions, not when there was an uprising that he had to prepare for.

The man took a steadying breath and sought out the distinctive dark pink hair of the first Storm Guardian and tactician who's experience and advice Ricardo relied on during the earlier parts of his reign and still did occasionally when Vongola was about to enter incredibly important battles.

"G…sir. I-it's your wife…and…child…" The man gave him a pitying look that had a cold chill sweeping through G's body, sinking into his very bones.

"There was a mudslide and the carriages were swept off the mountain. I'm sorry sir. There were no survivors."

The pen in G's hand snapped spilling ink over the table and papers spread before him, but G didn't notice over the roaring in his ears.

"This will most likely be the last time we see each other Rico."

The black-haired man stared into G's solemn face. He hadn't heard that nickname since…since the day the man who coined it left Italy for good. Giotto had been the one to jokingly first call him that seeing as young Ricardo may have been the middle child of fourteen children, but had had enough clout to order each and every one of his siblings about.

"Here." G pulled off his Storm Ring. "I don't know how you're going to run the Vongola or where you'll take it but I can guess and I don't think I'll like it. There's no point for me to stick around anymore really. I don't have a reason to so this will be a final farewell and my last duty for the Vongola."

He held the silver ring, its red gem winking in the light, over Ricardo's palm. They both watched as G continued to hold it for several more moments before gently placing it into Ricardo's waiting hand. Ricardo's eyes lingered on the visible tan line as G drew his hand back while G studiously ignored the band of the Sky Ring on Ricardo's.

"Give it to the one who you believe will be the best right hand for you. I assume you've already picked him out?"

He could still feel the warmth it retained from G's hand as he closed his fist and slipped it into his breast pocket.

"Yeah. Not like you wouldn't know. You've been training him to take over anyways. It'll be a pain in the ass to find someone else who can file papers the way Aurelio can."

G snorted in amusement. He didn't bring up the fact that the flaxen haired youth was Ricardo's best friend and one of the few people left who didn't cower in fear before his explosive temper.

They stood in silence for a moment longer, before G turned away shouldering his bow.

"Good bye…Genevra."

G paused and lifted one hand in good bye.

"See ya Rico."

Ricardo gazed at the diminishing back of the man who he would never admit that he considered as his other 'older brother.' When had he grown taller than G?

The Vongola Storm Ring that was so light in his palm, weighed heavily on his chest.

The force that Ricardo had put under G's command were ordered to stay back as G rained destruction in the form of flaming red arrows from atop a small hill.

He fired shot after shot, decimating and disintegrating everything they touched with his Storm flames. When the flame users of the enemy started to come out and fire back, G went forth and fought his way through them all, not even leaving ashes behind.

The night sky was lit with a brilliant red light as it engulfed the stories high stone walls.

By the time Ricardo and his new Guardians arrived, the once proud fortress was a crumbling wreck. What few survivors left had been rounded up by Vongola troops and held captive for Ricardo's orders.

"Where is G?" He roared over the cries of the prisoners and the shouting of his men.

"Von-vongola Secondo sir!" The next in command hastily bowed to his approaching boss. "He-he ordered us to stay here and catch anyone who escapes. He was brilliant sir. I've never seen anything like it. He singlehandedly wiped out the entire famiglia and destroyed the fortress itself. We didn't even get a chance to lay siege to the place."

Ricardo stopped in front of G who was half propped up against wall in the broken remains of the office of the enemy's boss. Said boss was lying on the floor of the inner courtyard below, his legs twisted awkwardly. A bloody smear trailed from a point twenty feet away and more blood was pooling around what was left of his head. Eyeing the pistol loosely cradled in G's hand, Ricardo had an idea of how he had died.

The other hand rested gently on top of the ornate bow.

"Hey." Ricardo nudged G's leg with the tip of his boot. "You alive?"

There was a soft groan and G lifted his head to look up at the figure before him. Dried blood was flaking off his face, covering his tattoo.

"Ri…co?"

"Yeah. It's me."

G squinted tiredly up at him. The sound of labored breaths rattled in both of their ears.

"You gonna make it?"

"Do-does it look like…" he wheezed "…I'm go-gonna make i-" He gave a wet hacking cough and blood trickled out from the corner of his mouth. "…you damn brat…"

"You want to live?"

G's head thumped back against the wall.

"Not really…"

Ricardo hummed his assent and sat on the broken seat of a chair next to the dying man.

"Any last request?"

"I…want…to see…the sky…one more…time."

Ricardo held up both of his fists, glowing with power, and blew away the remains of the roof above. After that, he reached into a pocket and pulled out a small box.

"Smoke?"

"Thanks."

Ricardo lit the first one and placed it into G's mouth. Then took a second for himself.

The quiet that followed made it easy to hear the panicking of the lower ranks, but the two ignored it in favor of watching the night sky lighten into dawn. There was no need for good-byes. They had already said them.

When the sun had risen and his cigarette was down to its last dregs, G died gazing up into the last of the orange light bleeding into blue. Somewhere in the distance, the new Storm Guardian's ring flared a blinding bright crimson before returning to normal.

Ricardo exhaled one last plume of smoke and snubbed the butt onto the floor, along with G's.

He tucked the pistol in G's hand into his own pocket, but when he touched the bow, it crumbled into dust.

Ricardo gently picked up the man up and carried him out. He wouldn't close his eyes. Not yet. Even though G could no longer see, he would put off doing so and let those sightless eyes witness the sky for as long as he could.

Apparently Giotto's famed Intuition could predict more than just danger and he and Asari managed to make to Italy the same day as G's death, leaving Japan two weeks ahead of time. Upon landing on the shores of Italy, Giotto had found a secluded spot and picked up and carried the swordsman as he flew towards the sight of his clamoring feelings.

It had been fifteen years since Ricardo had last seen his cousin and not much had changed about the blond aside from his foreign clothing and new accent he seemed to have picked up from the natives.

There was mass panic from most of those who witnessed the famous flying founders of their organization, but Ricardo only silently offered the man his best friend. Giotto slowly lowered himself to the ground and Ugetsu stood on his own two feet as Giotto let go.

"G…"

"He wanted the last thing he saw to be the sky."

"Thank you…Rico." Giotto reached forth and slowly closed G's eyes.

At G's funeral. Lampo cried the loudest as Knuckle recited scriptures from the bible through his own tears. Alaude shed none, but he watched with the most solemn expression anyone had ever seen on the man. Ugetsu joined Giotto in silent mourning, wet tracks streaming down the side of their faces.

G was buried in a special plot set aside specifically for the Vongola. In time, the future heads and their Guardians would be placed here too.

Ricardo watched as the others warily made way for an approaching Daemon Spade to let him place flowers on the upturned earth.

It would be the last time anyone witnessed a gathering of all of Vongola Primo's generation together in Italy.

There was rumble of thunder above and the sounds of churning waters below. When he opened his eyes, it was to witness dark storm clouds covering the sky. He sat up and saw that below was a sea of choppy red water. In fact, everything was red. The clouds were a shade lighter than burgundy. The water, a brilliant glowing crimson with shining ruby foam caps and sprays. Even the air itself was a reddish haze. Was this Hell? If it was, it was rather comforting actually.

G laid back down and closed his eyes.

"How…been here?"

"…don't know…already…before…me."

"…who's … get him up?"

"Not me. This idiot's always so damn cranky. Plus he's got a mean right hook. "

"Ahahaha. Well, he did use a bow you know."

"..." G's continued to lie there, keeping his breathing slow and steady. Those voices…He knew those voices. But why were they here in Hell with him? Or was this the part where he was supposed to suffer? If he opened his eyes, would the voices fade away? Or would the faces of the people he wanted to see more than anyone else be there?

"Fine. Fine. I'll do it. Everyone give me some space."

That was…! The image of a golden haired man swam into his mind's eye. If…if this was all a trick, then G would rather keep his eyes closed forever and just listen the sound that was sweeter than any music he had ever heard.

But apparently the voice had other ideas.

"Wake up G." No. No. He didn't want to. He didn't want to lose anything else again.

Something was tickling his nose now.

"C'mon sleepyhead. Everyone's waiting for you."

The tickling was more insistent and G wrinkled his nose as he turned on his side.

"G." There was that familiar commanding tone that he hadn't heard in over a decade. "I know you're awake. If you don't get up right now…" Rustling cloth was heard and G felt lips brushing the tips of his ear as it whispered, "I'll tell everyone your full name…Genevra." The mental image of the man was now sporting a mischievous smirk.

"Giotto, you son of a bitch! Don't you dare!"

With a roar he sat up, swinging his fist at the voice, which moved away as it cried out at the impact. And G opened his eyes.

"Hey G." Giotto groaned as he sat up rubbing his reddened cheek. "Hello to you too."

"Yo-You...you-" Any other words he had died away at the sight of his best friend looking no different than the day he left Italy for good. With the exception of the flame that seemed to have taken permanent residence on the blond's forehead.

"And this is exactly why I didn't want to do this." G whipped his head around to see Lampo and with him, the rest of his fellow Guardians all in their prime. Just the way he remembered them before Giotto had left. Even Lampo, who he had last seen as a full grown man and Lord of his territory, was now a teenager again. Knuckle no longer had the smattering of salt among his pepper black hair. Alaude's faint crow's feet were gone. Asari once again had his favorite flute in hand, which G knew for a fact that he had never gotten back after selling it off. Even Daemon was…!

"You-" he choked out. "-bastard!"

"Nufufufu. Don't you have better things to do?" He pointed back to the first man again, and G's breath hitched at the sight.

"Didn't I promise you G?"

There was Giotto, a sight for sore eyes, standing in front of him once again smiling that same warm smile.

"Didn't I promise that we would all meet again someday?"

The sky was now a bright endless blue with small puffy clouds lazily drifting by. Below them, the raging sea had become as smooth as a mirror, reflecting everything above. And G stood in a circle of his closest companions facing his beloved sky.

Omake:

Ricardo was a man who Daemon could get behind. Strong, smart, and dangerously ruthless. He knew what he wanted and he was going to take it, others be damned.

However, he had yet to gather all of his own Guardians.

There was that golden blond, Aurelio, who G was putting more and more work on as his own duties lessened. G still cared enough about the organization he had a hand in founding, but his loyalties would always be with Giotto. Everyone knew that and so everyone knew that someday G would leave. It was a shame as his ability to smooth out issues while simultaneously nitpicking and overseeing everything that came with the day-to-day runnings of the Vongola were unparalleled. Even with G's training, the young soon-to-be Storm Guardian would never be able to surpass him.

In fact, Ricardo had most of the Vongola Rings already. Giotto gave him his the night he announced to everyone that Ricardo would be the new head.

Lampo had been the first after his leader to turn his in. The unspoken, "You'll never be able to make me fight for you, not like the way he could," Was loud and clear.

Knuckle was next. "I have sworn to never raise my fist again Ricardo." Only one person could ever make him break that promise a second time and he was no longer here. A man, powerful as he was, who would not fight was of no use to the Secondo.

Alaude came a few years later with an ornate black box. "Asari has his own family along with his first child now. Giotto is engaged." Short, formal and clipped. "I will be leaving CEDEF to my successor soon. He will be the next one to report to you." The CEDEF leader left his last report with the Secondo along the box. In the silk padded linings were slots for rings. Two had been filled. The purple and blue stones, slightly dulled now without the presence of their respective wielders.

Only the Vongola Mist and Storm Rings were left. But G would never consent to having Daemon there.

Hidden in the shadows, Daemon watched and plotted for a way to remove G. His trainee had already mastered almost everything he needed to know and Daemon would step forth to be Ricardo's Mist if he hadn't found one by then.

G's wife was a nice woman with spirit but this would be for the good of the Vongola. There was a convenient allied famiglia that was he could possess easily enough and have them kill her. They were weak and had a tendency to rile up other opponents only fall back and watch as the famous Vongola stepped in to deal with their problems. G would obviously go down and destroy said famiglia in a rage and take care of a problem in a blaze of glory for Vongola. At least, that was what was supposed happen.

"G…I-I have something to tell you." She took a deep breath. "I'm pregnant."

As Daemon watched the happy couple, his own heart ached at the thought of Elena. This…this was a bit too much. He didn't like G, but…would it be fair to destroy the woman that was G's Elena? For the good of Vongola, he reminded himself. He took one last look at her facing shining with love the way Elena's once did for him. For the good of the Vongola, he would be its protector hidden in the mists. He would go take care of this problem himself.

A few years later, he would wonder if it was fate. G was a shadow of the man he once was. His in-laws placed their anger and grief on the man who had lost more than them. The bodies of his wife and child had been taken by his brother-in-law who cut off all ties with the man he blamed for their death and G would never be allowed to rest with them. The blaze of glory did indeed happen along with the total destruction of a strong enemy. Even Daemon had been impressed at what G managed to do without the aid of his Ring.

He mused though that it probably would have been kinder to kill his old comrade himself as he placed his bouquet at the base of G's grave.

The next day, he approached Ricardo.

"I believe that you still do not have a Mist Guardian? In that case, Vongola Secondo-I, Daemon Spade, shall offer you my services."

I think I fail at writing heart-wrenching things. G's had a pretty shitty life, but I think that he made the most of it and the good things he experienced were greater than anything most people could say they had happen to them.

It's a shame that KHR ended as I would love to know more about the other heads of Vongola, especially Ricardo and Daniela.

-Rico is really short for Enrico, but it means 'Home-ruler'.

-(OC) Aurelio-Ricardo's best friend. A blond haired man who becomes the second Storm Guardian. G sticks around Vongola for a while after Giotto leaves teaching his replacement how to do paperwork, when to argue with his boss, and pretty much the basics of being a right-hand man.

-In retrospect, it was a little cruel of Giotto to teach Tsuna to call G Genevra instead as he really knows why Genevra goes by G, but I'm chalking it up to his Hyper Intuition telling him that things will work out for the better this way. BotV is supposed to be fluffy and sweet with a little humor on the side, so this became its own one shot instead of an interlude chapter. This little bit will play into the main story later.

This underwent a lot of revision. Ricardo ended up playing a much bigger part in this story than planned. He was originally supposed to give G a boat ticket to Japan to find Giotto once G was old. G would have gone to Japan only to find that Asari and Giotto were dead and all that was left were their kids and grandkids. The omake is what Daemon really would have done to get rid of G so he could join Ricardo as his Mist Guardian. It's also the deleted scene that was originally going to be in the story. Daemon's turning out to be a lot nicer than others perceive him as in this universe.

Daemon still cares for his old comrades no matter what he thinks about them. The drama CD mentions that they all got along with each other enough to actually do paperwork together in the same room.

Let me know what you think. I'm always open to suggestions, but that doesn't mean I'll write something about them though. I'm very lazy and usually tend to write only when a sudden spurt of inspiration hits which can be very sporadic.